“I want you to push it out
Lisa. Take a deep breath, hold it and push it out.” This words again. Followed
by that oh so terrible whimpering sound that Lisa made. When she had made that
sound first off, inside her melting mind she had thought it was coming from
somewhere else, not from her. That a sound like that couldn’t come from her.
That there must be some kind of animal in distress or something. And then it
was like there was this deeper realisation that in fact the noise, the wet
slippery noise was coming from her and that actually, she was the trapped
distressed animal.

Lisa sucked in breath and
held it. Then she pushed. Gabrielle was doing the most simple of things. She
had a feather,a
long, fine feather and she was twirling it around and between the sex lips of
Lisa. But she was also holding back. Twirling and letting the sensation sink
into the central nervous system of the young girl and then pulling the feather
away. Just retracting it a little bit. Holding it just away from the flesh.
Making Lisa push her pelvis and her mound forward towards the feather as though
she needed it to be right back there. And as though the need was already a deep
seated thing.

The problem was that Lisa was’t free any more. She had already been relieved of her
spirit. Gabrielle had relieved her of her spirit some time ago. But she had
also relieved her of the ability to move. Of the ability to protect herself or
the ability to control any urges that she might have had going on. The thing
was that the urges that she needed surrounding that feather tip had been
inflicted on her and in her by the latex, medically inspired and clad
Gabrielle. Her arms were doubled up and high out of the way. Her long, long
legs had been doubled up, ankles secured to thighs and then spread wide. And
she had been secured to a concave arched leather bench that forced her most
sensitive and private sexual flesh, the flesh pulled through the rubber slit,
to thrust out exposed and vulnerable.

Gabrielle had taken her
time - taken her own sweet time to disable the girl. She had used her skill and
her knowledge in order to completely immobilise Lisa the way that she needed
her to be disabled. Making sure all restraints were tight, then just that
little bit tighter. Checking and rechecking. And as she had done that she had
taken the time to look at Lisa. Look at what and who she had completely and
utterly at her mercy. She made mental notes. Like she knew what Lisa was thinking. Or what she would have been thinking if she had
been able to think straight. Gabrielle was counting her lucky stars that she
had this girl in her grasp. An opportunity that probably would never present
itself ever again. This was one that she had to grasp and hold onto. From where
Gabrielle was standing, watching this poor girl in the early stages of complete
meltdown, she wasn’t going to let her go. There would be no way out for Lisa.

“That’s right sweetheart
push right out.” At that was what Lisa was doing. She was pushing and pushing.
As she pushed the latex slit was opening, like it had a life of its own and the
contrast of the shiny black latex with the live, throbbing, leaking, oozing
flesh of her sexuality was almost an alarming, disturbing thing. As she pushed
the latex parting and the inner lips of her sex coming to the fore. Pulsating,
trying to find, trying to reach the feather tip so
that it could consume that feather. The noises coming from Lisa’s mouth adding
to the disturbing scene being played out. Gabrielle just keeping that feather out
of reach and then offering it to the flesh again. Twirling it round. Slipping
it between the sex lips and using the juices in order to fashion the feather
tip into an ultra sharp pointed nib thing that she
was seeking out and then further tormenting Lisa with.

Gabrielle using her
experience. Just twirling and watching. Twirling and watching. And then pulling
it away. Letting the wet dribbling noises coming from Lisa to reach a form of
crescendo and then taking the feather away. The exact point of removing that
feather tip from the flesh causing Lisa to cry out in some kind of desperate
despair or other. And that was what it was, desperate despair. Her pushing
again. Not needing to be told. As soon as the feather was removed she was going
into those ‘pushing’ motions. Trying to push her femininity forward more than
the straps that were holding her to the bench would allow. And she was failing
in that and that was what was causing that noise to come from her. Gabrielle
was letting her see the feather was so close. She was allowing her to think
that if she pushed hard enough, if she pushed further and further that she
would be able to suck the feather right back into her saturated, swamp like
femininity. But she could never get that ‘little bit more’. She could never
quite make it. Of course she couldn’t. She was being denied. She was being
denied by Gabrielle. Gabrielle the sensual sadist.

This was a woman who was
causing and maintaining the harshest of distress and despair on a young girl
and yet she wasn’t hurting her painfully in any way. Even the bondage although
complete, hadn’t been painful. It had been applied tightly, completely and yet
also comfortably. The process hadn’t been intended as torture by bondage. The
bondage was a means to an end. The bondage was applied so that Lisa could be
tortured inside her mind. That was where the pain was happening right at this
point - inside her mind. Her mind was being melted, little by little.

Gabrielle had made a mush of Lisa’s sexuality
by the time she moved the attentions of the feather to the nipples. The young
girl had emitted a deep, guttural groan like one that might have signalled the
total end of her sanity, when the feather was taken away further than it had
been before. And then she had made another animalistic noise as Gabrielle had
chosen one nipple, her left one, and introduced the very tip of that feather to
it. Just brushing over the very tip. The very sensitive tip of the nipple. That
nipple already bloated and fat. And compressed by the latex squeezing its base.
Her immediate instinct was to pull away from that feather. The touch of it was
electric. But she couldn’t pull away. There was no movement left in her. She
couldn’t move herself away. And besides in her mind she wasn’t that sure that
was what she wanted to do anyway. And the more the feather was twirled around
her nipple, the more she liked it. And then that became a need as well. In a
way a stronger need than when it was down between her legs. A stronger need
because she couldn’t push, or move her nipple to the feather. She was totally
reliant on Gabrielle and her good nature. Totally reliant on this woman to give
her the pleasure of the feather. “Good girl Lisa. The sooner you accept that it
is what ‘I’ want, the better we will get along.” Eerily it was as though this
woman could read minds. That she could read the mind of Lisa. The bondage
needed to be comfortable, it needed to be complete because the torture of this
girl would be something that wouldn’t be ending any time soon. Or any time at
all. Lisa was being taken deeper. Deeper than her mind would be able to cope
with.